ch had been so unequivocally exhibited by
Frederick II. and his Royal Consort, inspired their courtiers with at
least an outward respect for science; and among the ministers and
advisers of the King, Tycho reckoned many ardent friends. It was every
where felt that Denmark had elevated herself among the nations of
Europe by her liberality to Tycho; and the peaceful glory which he had
in return conferred upon his country was not of a kind to dissatisfy
even rival nations. In the conquests of science no widow's or orphan's
tears are shed, no captives are dragged from their homes, and no devoted
victims are yoked to the chariot wheels of the triumphant philosopher.
The newly acquired domains of knowledge belong, in right of conquest, to
all nations, and Denmark had now earned the gratitude of Europe by the
magnitude as well as the success of her contingent.

An event, however, now occurred which threatened with destruction the
interests of Danish science. In the beginning of April 1588, Frederick
II. died in the 54th year of his age, and the 29th of his reign. His
remains were conveyed to Rothschild, and deposited in the chapel under
Tycho's care, where a finely executed bust of him was afterwards placed.
His son and successor, Christian IV., was only in the 11th year of his
age, and though his temper and disposition were good, yet Tycho had
reason to be alarmed at the possibility of his discontinuing the
patronage of astronomy. The taste for science, however, which had
sprung up in the Danish Court had extended itself no wider than the
influence of the reigning sovereign. The parasites of royalty saw
themselves eclipsed in the bright renown which Tycho had acquired, and
every new visit to Uraniburg by a foreign prince supplied fresh fuel to
the rancour which had long been smothering in their breasts. The
accession of a youthful king held out to his enemies an opportunity of
destroying the influence of Tycho; and though no adverse step was taken,
yet he had the sagacity to foresee, in "trifles light as air," the
approaching confirmation of his fears. Hope, however, still cheered him
amid his labours, but that hope was founded chiefly on the learning and
character of Nicolas Caasius, the Chancellor of the Kingdom, from whom
he had experienced the warmest attentions.

Among the princes who visited Uraniburg, there were none who conducted
themselves with more condescension and generosity than our own
sovereign, James VI. In t